Safe
by OneDarkandStormyNight
Summary: Jonny Quest's thoughts on his father as he lay listening to the silence in the lended room of the Mount Khumbu monestary, after having believed that Dr. Quest was dead and then miraculously returned. Post-Expedition to Khumbu. One-shot. Slight angst.


_Well, this is what becomes of it when I get the sudden hankering to watch the happy hug between Jonny and his dad at the end of Expedition to Khumbu. Not to mention that I've hit a snag in my Sherlock Holmes (movieverse) multi-chapter fic...Okay, admittedly, it's more of a I'm-too-lazy-to-figure-out-what-I-want-to-happen-next problem. But either way, I have tried to quell it by some father/son bonding JQ-ness._

**Safe**

The ancient Himalayan mountains were as still and silent as they had been for the past thousand years, the icy wind whistling through the narrow valleys and the dull winter moonlight reflecting off the miles of untouched snow covering the earth. The lone monastery sat at the peak of Khumbu, so unaffected by the modern world one could easily believe that it had been formed with the mountain, a creation of nature without the aid of human hands. Perhaps it was.

Deep within the darkened walls of the place, in a small room near the south wing, five people lay curled up beneath warm, native Tibetan blankets that were offered to them by the grateful inhabitants of the monastery. The head monk, who was perhaps the most grateful for their heroic protection of him and his loyal followers from the thieves, had been more than willing to allow them residence for as long as they wished it. Even so, all were anxious to return to their home at Palm Key, especially after the somewhat unnerving scare this place had brought to their family.

Quiet snores and deep breathing filled the little room, coming from the slumbering lumps situated around the flickering lantern. But even with it being nearly midnight, Jonny Quest just couldn't sleep. His mind was whirling with all the other possible ways he could be spending his night if his father hadn't been miraculously (there was no other way to describe it) rescued. Before, he didn't let himself think about it, hoping that if he didn't brood about what would happen if they couldn't find his dad, he could stay focused on looking. Now that Dr. Quest was lying safely just a few feet away, snoring softly and almost completely recovered from nearly freezing to death in the avalanche, Jonny allowed himself to imagine what would have happened.

The boy rolled over restlessly, tossing his arm across his forehead. Benton Quest had been both parents for him since before he could remember. He remembered once, when he was very young, his father had been in a very grave meeting with some representatives from the government when Jonny awoke crying because of a nightmare. (Nightmares for Jonny Quest had always been very rare, but when they occurred, they left him terrified.) He had rushed to his father's office and cracked the door open a bit when he heard the voices coming from within, unsure of what to do.

When Dr. Quest had seen his five-year-old son's tear-streaked face at the door of his office, he had interrupted one of the agents mid-sentence and motioned for Jonny to enter. He did not allow the meeting to continue until he had wiped away every small tear, ignoring the peeved looks he had received from the men when he situated Jonny comfortably against his chest instead of sending him back to bed.

Jonny peered in his father's direction in the darkness. He doubted if Dr. Quest even remembered, but he had never forgotten. When he was feeling upset or angry or just sad, he recalled that night and knew exactly where he could go where he would never be turned away. His father was good to him–good to all of them. He doubted if he would ever forget the look on an eleven-year-old Hadji's face when Dr. Quest smiled and told him he was offering him a home in America. (1) Or the gratitude in Jessie's eyes when he swore that he would pay whatever cost necessary to ensure that Race fully recovered from Surd's attacks. (2) Or Dr. Quest's own laughter when an almost newborn Bandit leapt from the bag he had rescued from a Mexican street gang. Or Race's shock when he returned home from a rare Agency mission to find his beloved car completely restored. (3) If there was ever a person in the world who deserved to live, it was Benton Quest.

Where would Jonny be now if his father really had been killed? They would have searched for weeks, he knew, but then what? Go home and pick out a gravestone? Walk past an empty, closed casket, dressed in black and trying not to weep in front of all the important people that would come from all over the world to say their farewells?

There was not a soul on the earth that would not suffer though something like that, certainly, but for Jonny, it was different. Worse. Happiness was the foundation of Jonny Quest's life. Everything he was, everything he hoped to be, was all made of fun and adventure and laughter. And all of this made him realize that people were a vast part of that happiness – people he loved, his family. The thought of day after day of sympathetic looks and gentle hugs and grieving and crying and longing were enough to work the boy into a depression.

That is to say nothing of how much he would miss him. Race would take care of him, he was sure; the man was the closest thing to an adoptive "uncle" that Jonny could want, after all, and he could not imagine the white-haired Texan they had all grown to love deserting him once his services were no longer obligatory. Race had been in his family for so long, he was almost like a second father to him. He _could_ get used to having him as a legal guardian.

But no matter how much he loved Race Bannon, it would never be the same, no matter who it was. Dr. Quest was his father, the only man who ever would be. He needed him, and he knew he always would. Even when he was thirty years old, with a career and a wife and children of his own, he would never stop depending on his dad to an extent. The empty place that kind of loss would leave in his heart and mind and world was even scarier than all the villains and guns and ice on the planet.

He tried to conjure up exactly what he would feel like when he, Race, Hadji, and Jessie got back to the Compound. Walking past his dad's brown coat that hung on the hook by the front door, sitting across from his worn armchair in the library, sorting all the nameless trinkets that decorated his desk, moving the bag of his favorite coffee in the kitchen, finding his glasses where he always left them in the Lighthouse...there was a piece of him in every part of the Compound. Every angle of each of their lives was affected by Dr. Quest in some way; he was a part of them, helped them every day in ways that none of them realized. Especially Jonny. Always Jonny.

He swallowed salty tears. Suddenly feeling so very cold in the big, damp room, he gathered the blankets and pillow and stepped over a passed-out Hadji to where his father lay under a pile of similar covers. Careful not to wake him, Jonny spread one of his blankets across the cold stone floor close to him and settled down onto it, feeling unexplainably warmer under the quilts than he had on the other side of the room.

His mind had abruptly cleared as well, and the younger Quest was just starting to doze when he heard a rustling movement to his right, and two strong arms gently wrapped around him, pulling until he was cradled against something very warm and comfortable. Surprised, he opened his eyes as more blankets wound around him securely, hearing the muffled _thump-thump_ of a slow heartbeat beneath his cheek.

There was a deep, rumbling sigh of contentment from somewhere above his head, and suddenly Jonny wanted to laugh out loud. His dad knew. _Of course_ he knew; he always did. The boy wondered how long Dr. Quest had been lying there, fully awake and waiting for him to finally give up his internal battle and seek the comfort of his father.

As it was, he could not help the low chuckle that rose in his throat. He should have known.

Dr. Quest tightened his arms in knowing response, and the last thing Jonny knew before he allowed the inviting sleep to take him was the caring warmth that enveloped him, and he knew beyond any doubts that he and everyone he loved were finally together and safe.

For the time being, anyway.

**The End**

* * *

(1) Reference to The Calcutta Adventure, original Jonny Quest series in the 1960s

(2) Reference to To Bardo and Back, Real Adventures of Jonny Quest

(3) Reference to Cyberswitch, Real Adventures of Jonny Quest

* * *

_It's so annoying to go from Queen's English to writing in 1990s-teenage-boy-thought-style. I keep having to replace words like "exhilaration" with "happiness" so it sounds natural. This fic didn't turn out as good as I wanted, but hey, it helped fix the laziness issue. I hope you all enjoyed! Loves you all.  
~Ny, aka Rin~_


End file.
